


Phantom Pain Relief

by zombiesbecrazy



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Grayson (Comics), Nightwing (Comics)
Genre: Alfred Is A Gift, Fluff, Gen, Homecoming, Spyral, Unexpected Visitors
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-21
Updated: 2018-03-21
Packaged: 2019-04-05 16:41:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14048463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zombiesbecrazy/pseuds/zombiesbecrazy
Summary: Alfred Pennyworth's days have been rather dull since Bruce Wayne lost his memories, until an unexpected guest shows up on his doorstep.Set the day prior to Grayson #12





	Phantom Pain Relief

**Author's Note:**

> In honour of one of Dick Grayson's many birthdays :)

Alfred was finding himself with a lot more free time on his hands. Or hand as it were.

His duties under this new, memory-less version of Bruce Wayne were much closer to those of a typical butler; cooking, cleaning, general household tasks. It was a lot less surveillance or medical emergencies than in his previous reiteration of his role and resulted in a lot more consistent sleep patterns and time to himself. He still assisted the rest of the family on a nightly basis as required from the confines of the Cave, but it was a much calmer and subdued than before without Batman overseeing the events.

Frankly, things were dull for the first time in a long time and if he were to be entirely honest, he was getting bored.

He was going to have to get a new hobby soon to keep himself entertained.

It was three o’clock on a Sunday afternoon and he was sitting in his living room with a cup of Earl Gray and a book that he had been meaning to read for months. Sunday had always been his day off, theoretically, but he couldn’t remember the last time that he had fully taken the day to himself before Master Bruce’s memory loss. Yesterday, New Master Bruce (as Alfred had taken to thinking of him) had insisted that Alfred take the day completely off because he had noticed that his butler hadn’t actually done so since his return, and New Master Bruce had thought that was odd.

New Master Bruce had laughed and said lightly “ _I’m capable enough to look after myself without adult supervision for one day a week, right_?” and Alfred had just smiled and replied with “ _I should hope so, sir_ ” and then provided strict instructions to not attempt to use the stove because that had always ended badly before and amnesia was surely just going to exacerbate that.

A knock at his door came as a surprise.

Before he opened it, Alfred knew that it could have only been a handful of people.  Most callers to the manor (who made it past the gate unnoticed) went to the front door. Close friends of the family often used the kitchen side door, but there wasn’t really anyone in that position right now who knew New Master Bruce well enough for that. In case of extreme emergency, those with the power of flight had been allowed to use the north side third floor lounge balcony, but other than that all costumed appearances must be through the various Cave entrances. Not many had that type of access privilege anyway. 

A knock at this particular location was an even further rarity, as it was at the little used door of Alfred’s ground floor west wing apartment and it was a door that very few people outside of the family knew even existed. The door was tucked away in a nook of the manor, through a small garden, well out of the way that people couldn’t stumble across it randomly unless they already knew that it was there. He wasn’t expecting anyone today and it made him curious as to who it could possibly be. His only guess was that it was New Master Bruce needing some assistance, but he would have used the inside entrance rather than the outside one.

Unless he had somehow managed to lock himself out of the manor.

When he opened the door, Alfred froze at the sight of the dark haired man before him. He had not expected this visitor to grace his doorstep with his presence ever again.

“Um. Hi?”

It wasn’t often that Alfred Pennyworth found himself dumbfounded, but seeing the previously-thought-to-be-deceased Dick Grayson standing on his doorstep had solidly positioned him as such. Dick looked a little sheepish, clearly knowing that this was an unorthodox situation at best. It was his ‘caught stealing cookies from the jar’ face. Alfred could recognize that specific look anywhere.

Words were failing him, so instead Alfred spoke with his actions and stepped forward to pull Dick into a hug. Dick immediately gave him a tight squeeze back and any doubt Alfred had about his identity vanished; it was a pure Dick Grayson hug. The eldest boy was _alive_ and _home_. Alfred couldn’t take his eyes off him after they broke apart. It was nothing short of a miracle and it felt like Alfred had finally let go of a breath that he didn’t realize he was holding.  “You would expect that with the amount of times that someone who has been thought to be dead comes back into my life that I would be used to it, however, I never am.” He stepped aside, smiling, and gestured for the now grinning younger man to join him inside. “I’m extremely shocked but pleased to see you. Please come in.”

Dick entered and closed the door behind himself, kicking off his shoes and removing his jacket at the same time, and hung it up in the closet behind the door. Bruce, as well as Thomas and Martha before him, had always insisted that the rules were different in Alfred’s apartment. This was Alfred’s home, not part of the manor itself, and should be considered as such. Unless it was an actual life or death emergency, you couldn’t walk in without being invited, as Alfred was not at work and that was to be respected.  You were to look after yourself. Titles were not used.  It was the only place that Alfred used only first names with the family. Master Bruce had tried to get Alfred to stop using formal titles in the rest of the manor proper years ago, but Alfred had always insisted on the formality of it. It was a part of his job, and he liked the division of such.  Dick, as well as Jason, had spent quite a bit of time at Alfred’s when they lived at the manor, but it had been a long time since either one of them had stopped by unannounced, however that probably had more to do with Alfred never taking time off than anything else. 

“Alfred! You’re missing a hand!”

Looking down at where his hand used to be, Alfred frowned slightly to himself. “I’m aware, but thank you for your concern. The Joker decided that I was no longer in need of it.” Dick looked like he was going to start arguing about it or make a fuss, but Alfred held up his good hand to silence him.  He really wasn’t in the mood for that conversation when there were more pressing issues to discuss. “There is a fresh pot of tea on the counter, if you would like some.” Dick’s eyes flicked back to Alfred’s missing limb, but seemed to decide to drop the matter and made his way into the kitchen. He grabbed a cup and poured himself a drink, and then back into the sitting room and joined Alfred on the sofa. They sat in silence for a few moments, with neither of them really knowing where to start. Dick looked a little nervous like he was expecting to be chastised for his disappearance, which was understandable, but Alfred was just so happy to see him that he couldn’t. Etiquette for such occasions didn’t have a set schedule, so Alfred just decided to plunge in and save Dick from any awkwardness. “I assume that you heard about Bruce. I must infer that he knew of your current living status before all this?”

Dick gave a small nod, and Alfred could see the regret on his face. “I’m sorry it took me so long to come home. I didn’t know until a few days ago. Bruce had me on an undercover mission but dropped out of contact so I came home to see what was going on only to find… amnesia?  Seriously? Soap opera much?” He snorted, because even after all they had been through it did really just sound farfetched. He was clearly just getting started though, and Alfred smiled to see him talking animatedly with his hands. He hadn’t realized how much he had missed that particular quirk. “Jim Gordon is in a robot Batman costume? You are missing a limb?” Dick rolled his eyes in what would have been an overdramatic fashion if the story wasn’t so absurd to start with. “I haven’t been gone long enough for things to really go this sideways, have I? What on earth happened?”

Alfred sipped his tea. “After his last encounter with the Joker, Bruce lost his memories as a side effect of dionysium healing him. And once I realized the full scale of it, I may have purposely neglected to inform him of all the facets of his previous life.”

“So… no Batman.”

“No. He is now simply Bruce Wayne.”

“What about the family?”

“He hasn’t really asked about children, so I have not disclosed much, however I’m certain he has done some investigating on his own so he must be aware of your existence. If he were to Google himself it would pop up; all of you are mentioned on his Wikipedia page. If he asks directly, I’ll tell him. I removed some more compromising pictures from the walls, and hidden some personal items from your bedrooms, but everything is still here. He’s just not looking very hard. I think he suspects that things aren’t exactly as they seem, but for now he’s accepting what he’s being told.”  Alfred knew that he really should have told Bruce more about the youths that he had taken in, but that would have involved telling him about Robin and he just couldn’t find a way to separate them at the time.

His eyes looked conflicted, but Dick nodded slowly. He may not like it but it was a scenario that Alfred knew that Dick could understand the decision he had made at the time. “Lying by omission. Bruce taught you well.”

“Who do you think he learned it from?” Alfred sighed. “The rest of his background overwhelmed him and I just got to a point where I didn’t want to distress him further. Either of us.”

Dick hums softly. “What will you tell him? If he asks?”

“A variation of the truth, I suppose. Jason and yourself are legally deceased, so I don’t think he’ll dig deep there, though he have questions about you being Nightwing since that was public because of the Crime Syndicates actions. I’ll deny any prior knowledge. Tim has been in regular contact with him, but Bruce just thinks he’s a Wayne Enterprises wunderkind, which isn’t exactly a lie. The jump to adopted son won’t be hard, especially under the circumstances of Mr. Drake’s death, and that Tim’s old enough to rationalize him not living here. Tim has said he wouldn’t mind if Bruce wants to develop a relationship if he finds out, but he’s not going to initiate it at this point. He’s letting Bruce settle in a little more.”

“And Damian?”

“I’ll say that he’s with his mother overseas.”

“Where is he really?”

“Travelling extensively, but when he’s in Gotham he has been staying in the penthouse. Goes out on patrol, sometimes with Tim or Jason or various Teen Titans, but primarily he is on his own. He’s doing better than I would have expected with the situation, but he doesn’t want to speak to his father.  I’m just rather glad that he checks in with me daily, at least by text if not a phone call.” Alfred reaches over and pats Dick’s knee gently. “He misses you.”

Instantly Dick’s face clouds over, obviously thinking about how much his absence has been felt by the family.  “I’m so sorry, Alfred.” He places his hand on Alfred’s. “For letting all of you think I was dead. I didn’t want to, but you know how Bruce is…”

“Was.”

“Yeah. But because of that you’ve been going through this alone. I should’ve been here. I could have helped.”

“I’m sure you had good reason.” Dick shrugged and stared intently at his drink, looking a little lost in his own thoughts.

A few moments passed in silence and Alfred saw Dick give himself a little shake to regroup. “How have you been doing, Alfred? This can’t be easy on you. You’re looking after him, but who is looking after you?”

“You needn’t worry about me. I’m doing as well as can be expected. It has been different at the very least. It’s been nice to see Bruce happy and healthy and not coming home bleeding every night for a change. I have a lot less in my portfolio as well.”

“You’re bored.”

“So very bored, Dick,” said Alfred dryly and Dick laughed in response. “I had forgotten what only being a butler was like. Most would find it to be a very tiresome and busy role, but after so many years of doing more and having the house run as a well-oiled machine, I don’t know what to do with myself a lot of the time. I’ve caught up with some old friends, read a great many books, but yes.  I often find myself without much to keep me stimulated.”

“I’m going to get you a kitten.”

“Don’t you dare. It would just be appropriated by Damian in any case.” Alfred paused.  As much as he appreciated Dick asking about him and being concerned, there was much that Alfred still needed to know. How on earth had they found themselves in this situation in the first place? Or was it something that Dick wouldn’t want to talk about, like Alfred and his decision about his hand? “May I ask about the incident with the Crime Syndicate?”

“You know most of it, actually. Captured. Unmasked live on TV. Died.” Alfred raised an eyebrow at Dick’s words, and received a small grimace in return. “I did die, technically, but it was only for a few minutes. Luthor revived me almost immediately.” Dick sucked in a breath. “It really was the only way. Stopping my heart _did_ save everyone. Greater good, you know?  I can’t be too upset about it.”

Alfred reached over and gave the younger man’s shoulder a squeeze. “Oh, Dick, you absolutely can be.”

“I’m more upset about what happened afterwards. About letting everyone think I stayed dead. That was a horrible thing to do.” Dick locks eyes with Alfred. “Bruce and I are terrible people to do that to you.”

Alfred squeezes Dick’s shoulder again and then drops his hand to pick up his tea once more. “I wouldn’t say that at all. I’d say that it is unfortunate that that is what it had to come to. There couldn’t have very many viable options if that was the best that he could come up with.” While Alfred hadn’t always agreed with Bruce’s unilateral decisions that he made as Batman over the years, he had come to realize that sometimes they were necessary, and what was necessary wasn’t always easy. It wasn’t something that either Bruce or Dick would have agreed to lightly. “So where have you been, if not in your grave where I had erroneously assumed you were?”

“Spyral. Bruce suspected that they had intel on a lot of people’s secret identities and needed someone on the inside to find out how much they knew,” Dick shrugged. “My death was at a convenient time for the mission. He took advantage of the opening.”

“You’ve been a spy. That sounds like it could be quite exciting.”

“Sort of the same, actually. Less spandex. More hiding in plain sight. Lots of secrets and techy gizmos. My partner thinks it’s cute that I won’t kill people and that more than once I’ve thrown my gun at someone instead of shooting it.” Dick stretched his arms over his head and Alfred heard his shoulders pop faintly. “If anything, I’m overqualified for the job.”

“That can happen when one is trained since childhood. Was the mission successful?”

“I guess. Not as good as it could have been. I give myself a B minus. I’m not sure that it’s been worth what it cost. I’m done though. It’s over.” Dick looked out the window and there was a ghost of a smile on his face as he looked out onto the grounds. “This isn’t my first time home.”

“No?”

“Before I left, I had a huge fight with Bruce in the Cave about the mission. Massive. Destroyed the place. You almost walked in on us and he had to lock down the entrances to stop you.” Alfred instantly knew the occasion. When he had finally gotten access back to the Cave, it had been a disaster. Bruce was bleeding profusely and a Batmobile was crushed amongst much more damage. He had assumed at the time that Batman had done it all himself in a moment of raging grief but this explanation made much more sense. “I was here before they went to get Damian from Apokolips, too. I had some prime Pennyworth sandwiches that night.”

“So you haven’t seen anyone else?”

“You were my first stop. Only person who saw me on my other visits was Bruce. And Titus was pretty excited to see me. I did work a case that overlapped with something Babs was doing a couple weeks ago, but she didn’t know it was me. Or I don’t think so at least, but I really shouldn’t put it past her.”

Alfred hummed in agreement. If anyone had been able to see through whatever cover Dick was using, it would have been Barbara Gordon. “Are you back in Gotham to stay then?”

Leaning back on the sofa, Dick closed his eyes and smiled and for the first time since he arrived, Alfred got the feeling that Dick was truly relaxed.  It reminded him of soldiers who had come home from a long time away on only just realizing that his mission was over.  It was a look of calm relief. “That’s the plan.  Don’t know what I’ll do though. Nightwing was unmasked and Dick Grayson is dead. Gotham has a Batman. Time to start over again, I guess,” said Dick quietly. He opened his eyes again and locked them with Alfred. “I’m going to have to reveal myself to the family if I’m staying.”

“You may want to consider doing that part regardless. They’d appreciate it.” Dick nodded and looked away. He was still clearly struggling with what faking his death had meant to the family and the potential consequences of such. “If you wish, I think Commissioner Gordon might be relieved if a non-robotic Batman were to appear again. Damian would be pleased if you were to take on the mantle again as well.”  Dick didn’t like being Batman, and Alfred knew that better than almost anyone, but it needed to be said.  The option had to be presented.

“I’ll think about it.” Dick tapped his fingers against his cup a few times. “Do you mind if I stay in the penthouse for a bit? I’m slightly homeless.”

“At this point that’s going to be up to Damian as the primary resident, but I would expect it will be fine with him.”  Dick nodded again and a silence fell between them once more, and Alfred couldn’t help but think of other times that Dick had visited him over the years. Dick always appeared calmer here, in Alfred’s home, than he did other places where he was usually in constant motion. He was more likely to sit at rest and indulge in the quiet instead of in the manor or the penthouse. Alfred had never questioned it, wondering if it would break the spell if Dick became aware of the change in himself. Five minutes passed in silence before Alfred broke it. “Do you want to visit with Bruce? We can disguise you and come up with a reason for you to stop by.”

“I don’t know, Alfred. What is he like?”

That was a very good question.  What was this New Master Bruce like and how best to describe him? It was something that he had tried to do for others already and had struggled with it.  It was a strange position to be in; to reintroduce someone to a person that they had known for years. “He’s very much the same person at the core, but lighter. The weight of the world isn’t pushing him into darkness. The death of his parents doesn’t drive him, but their work does motivate him and he’s doing a lot of charity projects with the Wayne Foundation. He still wants to make Gotham better but is doing it in the light. He’s the person I would like to think that he would have been if they hadn’t been killed. He smiles a lot. He’s seeing a lady that he knew as a teenager who is very kind and openhearted. He’s grown a beard. And not just the usual ‘I’ve been sitting in the Cave for four days and forgot to shave’ scruff. An actual, on purpose, beard.” Dick snorts and Alfred gives him a small smirk in return. “It’s odd. He doesn’t actively remember his former life, but things that he says and does… I can see the person that I raised.”

“Such as?”

“When he first arrived, he didn’t know his history, birthdate or where his room was in the manor, but he knew that he kept his sleep attire in the closet instead of the dresser like most people do. He knew that he took milk, not cream, in his coffee. That he doesn’t like grapefruit without tasting it first. He still prefers blue pens over black pens,” Alfred could feel the smile growing on his face as he continued. “The first morning he came down for breakfast, he called me Al instead of Alfred. It isn’t usual to abbreviate the name of someone you have just met.”

Dick gave a low whistle. “That’s something that I haven’t heard him say in years. Do you think that his memories are still there, just hidden?”

It had been something that Alfred had been considering frequently over the past week. “If you had asked me that a few weeks ago I would have said no however I’m beginning to think otherwise.”

“Does he still eat burgers wrong?” Alfred could still remember the first time Dick had seen Bruce take out a knife and fork to eat a hamburger. He had been absolutely flabbergasted and had just stammered without forming real words for a few moments, before telling Bruce that he was ‘ _insulting to the good people of Hamburg_ ’, and ‘ _why on earth would he eat sandwiches normally but then butcher a hamburger with utensils_ ’? Bruce blamed Alfred’s influence, but Alfred had taught him nothing of the sort.

“I’ve yet to test that, though now I think that may be a good addition to my experiment. A control variable.”

Nodding, Dick exhaled slowly. “Ok. I’ll see him. This new and improved Bruce Wayne. I need to see him with my own eyes and know that he’s alright.” Alfred started to stand up but Dick put his arm out to stop him. “Tomorrow.” He raised an eyebrow and Dick pointed at Alfred’s clothes. “No jacket or dress shirt? Slippers? And I saw some dishes just sitting on the counter in the manor kitchen when I was sneaking around the grounds earlier. You are clearly off the clock today. I can tell. I’m an international super spy, you know.” Dick winked and Alfred rolled his eyes in return.

“I believe this is a good example of something that would be considered an exception.”

“Nope. It’s not life or death. I know the rules. I shouldn’t even be here uninvited.” 

 “I would say that coming back from the dead definitely falls into reasons allowed for a visit.”

“To visit, yes, but to have you go back into full butler mode on your day off? Not a chance. It can wait.”

“Of all the rules you choose to follow…” Sometimes Dick, along with the others, completely exasperated Alfred. Being a vigilante wasn’t an issue, but the line was drawn at potentially disturbing Alfred on his day off to reunite with Bruce? Frustrating, but in a familiar way that warmed Alfred’s heart. “Do you wish to stay the night here?”

“If it’s alright with you. I should probably see Bruce before I see the others or ask Damian about being roomies again. If not, I can go to a hotel.”

“I insist you stay with me tonight then. I have more than enough room for a wayward Robin to roost in when required.”  Alfred stands, picks up his cup and moves towards the kitchen. “Would you like something to eat? I’m feeling rather peckish myself.”

Dick shot up with his own empty cup and started to gather things off the coffee table to follow Alfred. “Let me give you a hand with that.” Wincing slightly, Dick looked a little sheepish. “Damn. Is it too soon for hand jokes?”

Alfred chuckled and waved his handless arm at Dick dismissively. “Not at all. They are quite common now. I actually should show you all the prosthetic designs with weapons attachments that Jason has been working on. He’s been calling them my ‘arm-ory’. I’d give him a round of applause on that pun, but that is a little less effective now than in the past.”

“Nice.” Dick chuckled. “Though I’m a little disappointed that he didn’t find a way to work ‘bat’ into that name.”

“He has one he’s calling the ‘bat-tering ram’. I must admit that it is one of my favourites so far.”

“And the naming legacy lives on. I’m so proud.”

Alfred looks Dick over again and thinks about how much he has changed, not just since his death, but since he was young and had first come to the manor.  The boy has grown up to become a fine man, and it was exceptional to witness. He turned and pulled the young man into another gentle hug. “I’m so happy you are back, Dick. I’ve missed you.”

“Me too, Alfred. Me too.”


End file.
